


Fuck You

by smellyleaf



Category: Olympics RPF, Swimming RPF
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-16 11:29:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4623696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smellyleaf/pseuds/smellyleaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan has a party and Michael cums. Written in 2011.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fuck You

Michael has to circle the block twice before he sees a place to park, squeezing his car in between a little red Corolla and a Mustang at an angle. He's about six houses away, but the music is blaring so loud that with each thump of the bass, he feels his insides vibrating a little along with it.

The door is wide open, and he pushes his way past the throngs of drunk people, slipping and sliding through the party. He takes a drink from a stranger, tipping it back a little. Cigarette smoke and something sweeter hangs heavy in the air, and underneath the music, he can hear the low buzz of drunken conversation. The only familiar faces he sees are from tags off Facebook; this is a Gainesville party and he's only a tourist here.

He came prepared, but finding his host isn't hard at all. He makes his way towards the loudest room in the house, and there he is, drunk and just a little sweaty from dancing, laying out on the kitchen table with his shirt off. He laughs as a friend pours liquor in his bellybutton, nearly dropping the lime from his mouth. The lucky girl in question licks a line of salt down his stomach and sucks the shot out, crawling up to take the lime straight from his lips in a slow kiss. Michael blinks and looks away, turning to leave the kitchen. He doesn't make it very far before he hears the sound he's been thinking of since he got off the plane.

"Michael!"

There's a scramble behind him and by the time he's spun around, Ryan is right there, blue eyes bright with excitement, "Hey, you made it!" He throws his arms around his friend in a hug, standing on his toes to tuck his chin into the space between Michael's neck and shoulder.

Michael closes his eyes for just a second, tipping his head down by Ryan's ear, "Hey, yeah. I've been blowing your phone up for an hour, dude."

Ryan pulls back, and the face he makes for apology wins Michael over instantly, tugging a smile out of him. Ryan smiles back, teeth glittering with diamonds. He starts to say something, but then the music kicks in louder than ever.  
_  
'Popping bottles in the ice, like a blizzard. When we drink we do it right, get slizzer'd...'_

"Shit, I love this song!" Ryan has to yell to be heard. Snatching up Michael's arm, he tugs him out the kitchen and towards the stairs down to the basement, "Let's dance!"

The music gets louder with each step, the bass shaking the pictures on the wall. It's dark in the basement, which is completely cleared out for dancing except for the bar full of drinks and the sound system. Strobe flashes, and Michael catches Ryan's movement in little starts and stops. Downing his drink, he tosses the cup and lets himself get led right into the thick of it.  
_  
'Drink it up, drink, drink it up; Sober girls around me, they be actin' like they drunk...'_

It's impossible to stand still in the crowd, the bump and grind of it forcing Michael to do his own bump and grind. In the small spaces in the music, he can hear excited screams from people in the crowd. Everyone is dancing with everyone, really, and Ryan presses back into him drunkenly. Michael drops a hand to his side, glancing down in the flash of light as Ryan rubs against him.

_'It's that 808 bump, make you put your hands up..."_

Michael can't help but grin as everyone lifts there hands. Ryan's party is the kind of party you only expect to see in movies, with whole bottles in ice on the bar and everyone toasted as hell out on the dance floor. But, then again, Ryan has the kind of money for movie magic.

The strobe is set along with the bass, and Michael feels that familiar club-feeling of being outside of himself. It's a sort of high, a confusion that comes along with the snatches of things his brain can comprehend in the strobing lights. It jolts him back into reality when the song ends and the lights change, allowing him to see and process the DJ controlling it all. A new song comes on, and colored lights flash along with it.

_'Ass keep a jigglin', motherfuckin' wigglin'...'_

Ryan moves then, and Michael follows him over to the bar. The diamonds covering Ryan's watch gleam and glitter in the lights as he yells something close to the bartender's ear. Then Michael is accepting a drink. Ryan is smiling huge, and he downs his own drink in a matter of seconds, followed by a shot. Michael does the same, trying to keep up. Ryan shakes his hips along with the music as he walks. Michael is pretty sure he might be rolling, with the way he's smiling and touching everyone, but you can never tell with Ryan.

The DJ's voice comes over the speakers, just a hair louder than the song, "Hey, where's the host at? Front and center!" Then Ryan is breaking away from him, heading towards the platform at the end of the room.

Michael is bumped and rubbed by the crowd as he watches Ryan climb up on the platform to dance, laughing, with a throng of pretty girls. He's handed a bottle and the girls tip it up for him, everybody smiling and laughing as Ryan gets toasted.

By the time the song changes a few times, Michael is definitely feeling the buzz, dancing along with everyone else and taking shot after shot. Then he sees a set of familiar tanned arms wrap around his stomach as a warm body presses against his back. The time on Ryan's watch shows it's near four in the morning, and he doesn't see how it could possibly be so late.

Ryan leads him through the crowd and back towards the stairs. The music permeates the whole house, and Ryan raps quietly under his breath along with it. Michael doesn't ask any questions as Ryan grabs a bottle out of the freezer, the glass frosted over with cold. He just follows him up the stairs to the bedroom, glancing behind him to see if anybody's looking before he shuts the door and locks it.

Ryan smiles crookedly at him, taking a swig from the bottle as he toes his shoes off. His socks are red, matching the shoes and the detail thread on his South Pole jeans. In the dim lighting, Michael takes in the red of Ryan's belt and the red design on his shirt.

"You look so good."

Ryan smiles, reaching up to steal Michael's tilted baseball cap, "You do too."

"Not as good as you." Michael takes the bottle from him and takes his own drink. It slides down like water, and he sets it down on Ryan's computer desk, sliding his hands along Ryan's ribcage, "This party is crazy, man." Ryan just shrugs modestly, and Michael sighs in frustration, "Will you just take that grill out already so I can kiss you?"

Laughing, Ryan does just that, tucking it into his back pocket just before Michael leans in to take his kiss.

As they fall back onto the bed, which is a mess of covers and pillows, Michael's hand falls onto the hard plastic lump of Ryan's cellphone. He holds it up.

"Dude, awesome. I was going psycho looking for that earlier." Ryan takes the phone and drops it onto the floor on top of his shirt, where Michael is sure it will just end up lost again. But he doesn't say anything, just grins and takes off his own shirt.

Ryan fumbles over the button on Michael's jeans, "Sure you don't wanna talk?"

"No." Michael takes Ryan's wrists and pins them above his head with one hand, dropping a kiss on his mouth, "I just wanna fuck you."

Ryan's jeans come off his hips easy, revealing his matching red boxers and making Michael laugh, "God, what are you? A Blood now? Why all this red?" He doesn't wait for an answer, rubbing his hand over the bulge in the front of them before slipping his hand inside the pocket to touch the warm flesh underneath. Ryan is hard already, and Michael kindly strips his boxers off so that Ryan's dick can bob free, "Roll over."

Ryan toes off his socks and complies, turning over and rising to his knees, holding himself up with one hand resting flat on the headboard. His skin feels tight and a little too hot, the anticipation of Michael's fingers nothing compared to the reality when they slip in and wiggle.

Ryan moans softly, pressing back into them. Michael's body fits against his like a puzzle piece, skin slightly cooler than his own, and Ryan groans as Michael's wrist starts to move rhythmically. He's a compliant drunk, and after only a few minutes, he whines softly, looking back at Michael over his shoulder, "Come on..."

Michael straightens up, pulling his hand away to spit in his palm and slick himself up. The next moment, he's holding Ryan's hips and pushing into him, their moans echoing each other.

"Man, I missed you." Ryan pants softly under him, muscles in his back flexing as he uses his arms to push back against Michael. A moan escapes him and he rocks his hips, taking control of the pace for a moment before Michael grips his hips and stops him.

"Stop that. I'm close." He groans under his breath, clipping his hips once and making Ryan moan. He loves having drunken sex with Ryan, watching him come unhinged. He knows Ryan is touching himself, and he finally starts moving at the thought, fucking him hard enough that Ryan's volume increases to the point that Michael hopes nobody downstairs can hear it.

He feels heat pooling in the root of his belly and pulls out. Ryan whimpers softly, panting and out of breath. Sliding back a little, Michael rolls him back over, lifting Ryan's leg under the knee up to his shoulder and sliding back in. His toes catch against the footboard and he starts jerking his hips. His pace is faster than before, fingers curling down into the sheets as Ryan moans his name. He feels the muscles around his dick tighten up and then Ryan goes quiet as he comes, biting softly into Michael's shoulder to muffle his moans. Michael's hips rock faster and he follows, pushing in to the deepest point and making Ryan groan.

"I can feel your pulse..." Ryan pants softly against his shoulder, and Michael smiles, kissing his neck and letting his lips linger there.


End file.
